


Affairs Of The Heart

by dillonmania



Series: The Dillonsverse [4]
Category: The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, F/M, Gen, Infidelity, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa gets in deeper than she'd intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Don’t forget to get dressed up for the party tonight,” Lisa reminded her husband, peeking into his workshop to see what he was doing.   
“I’m not going,” he replied distractedly, most of his attention directed at the circuit board he was welding.   
“What? But you promised!”  
“I’m busy.”  
“Oh, that can wait!” she complained, and yanked the blowtorch out of his hand as he sputtered with irritation. “You _promised_.”  
“You don’t know anything about the creative process,” Roscoe grumbled under his breath, getting up and following her out. “And you know I do not feel comfortable at these events. People always want to talk to me about the most foolish topics, and I never know what to say.”  
“Too bad, you’ll go and you’ll enjoy yourself. I’m not going alone,” she told him sharply. “Take a shower, you’re covered in grease. And then put on a suit.”  
“Mustn’t I first get your permission about what to wear?” he asked snidely, and she angrily waved a finger in his face.  
“Don’t you give me any of that. At least the kids do what they’re told without any backtalk. Now move, Roscoe. We’re going to be late.”  
She muttered uncomplimentary things about him as he stormed away to the bathroom for a quick shower, tossing grease-stained clothes in his wake.

They arrived at the party venue an hour later, Central City’s premier art gallery. Lisa was keen to improve her social standing in the city, and had decided that attending fancy events and being seen was the best way to accomplish this. Roscoe simply didn’t care, and would be happier if no one knew who he was; he’d had the more notorious reputation as a Rogue and figured he’d get less trouble if he was mostly anonymous.   
“Remember, be pleasant,” she coached him as they walked through the entrance, formally arm-in-arm as demanded by etiquette. “Make small talk.”  
“I am not a social idiot. I have done this before.”  
“Shhh!” she scolded when they passed a society matron, though Lisa kept her face as neutral as possible. They checked their coats at the front, and headed to the ballroom to mingle with the other guests.  
“Go be sociable,” she told him, and then (as far as he was concerned) threw him to the sharks, splitting up so she could talk with various local luminaries.  
“Yes, _sociable_ ,” he muttered, deeply uncomfortable, and wandered off to find a quiet corner to sit in.

Lisa enjoyed mingling with people. She loved to talk, laugh, and flirt, and was very good at all three. She was typically the centre of attention in a gathering, and tonight was no different. As she chatted with several people, strangers who were already becoming friends, she wished it was something Roscoe liked to do too, so they could do it together. But he was awkward in social situations, prone to either hiding or pompously lecturing people to compensate for his unease. In the end, Lisa was just glad for the occasional opportunity to interact with interesting people without children around, because as much as she loved her kids, they tended to bring the conversation to the level of Sesame Street. As a stay-at-home parent, it was nice to talk to adults for a change. Smiling, she briefly broke away from her new friends to get some punch at the drinks table, and then literally bumped into the man in front of her.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” she gasped, and looked with dismay at the spreading punch stain on his jacket. “Oh no…I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning…I’m really sorry.”  
“Think nothing of it,” he replied gallantly. “Accidents happen, Ms…”  
“Dillon. Lisa Dillon. Have we met?”  
“We have now,” he said with a broad smile, and she giggled. “I’m Michael Visser; pleased to make your acquaintance. What brings you here tonight? Are you an art collector?”  
“Oh…just interested. I don’t have a lot of it…”  
Of course, she neglected to mention the Dillons’ art pieces had been obtained through theft during their criminal careers. The police hadn’t been able to confiscate _all_ their stolen goods.  
“It’s a wonderful hobby. Maybe you could tell me about what you’re interested in,” he said smoothly, pouring glasses of punch for the both of them, and carefully steered her to a less populated area of the ballroom. There, they talked for over an hour.

“My goodness, I didn’t realize we’d been here so long,” Lisa exclaimed, looking at her watch. “Time just seemed to fly by.”  
“I enjoyed talking with you too,” he replied, looking steadily into her eyes. She blushed and glanced away.  
“Roscoe will be wondering what happened to me,” she said shyly. “I should go…”  
As she stood up, Michael gently grasped her wrist to keep her from getting away.  
“Lisa,” he asked boldly, “could I interest you in meeting me for lunch sometime?”  
“Oh…I don’t know…it’s not really appropriate,” she murmured in a wavering tone. She’d very much enjoyed spending time with him, and admitted to herself that she wanted to do it again. Michael was intriguing, and smooth and personable in ways Roscoe was not. She liked this kind of conversation, and the undercurrent of sexuality in the way he talked to her was exciting.  
“It’s up to you, but I would very much like to talk with you again,” he told her seriously, handing her a business card. “Call my cell when you make a decision.”  
“I will,” she faltered. “I’ll call your number, I mean. Soon. Goodbye, Michael.”  
He smiled at her, and she hurried away, blushing madly.

_Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that_ , she thought to herself in shock. _I even took his phone number. But is he ever hot…_  
She looked around the ballroom and couldn’t see Roscoe anywhere. The crowds had thinned a bit as the night wore on, but he didn’t seem to be around. She spent at least ten minutes searching all over before finally finding him sitting alone in an isolated corner, clearly lost in thought.  
“What are you doing?” she demanded crossly, already furious at him.  
“Huh?” he asked, suddenly snapping out of his reverie, and hid a piece of paper. “Nothing.”  
“Have you been writing up plans for something?”  
“Um…yes.”  
“Let me see it.”   
Snatching at the paper he meekly handed over, she saw it was covered in complex designs, equations, and notes --- clearly the result of hours of work.  
“Did you spend the entire time working on this?”  
He knew he was in trouble. “Yes, Lisa. I’m sorry.”  
“Not as sorry as you will be,” she muttered, throwing it at him. “Get your coat, we’re going home.”  
He grabbed the paper and followed closely behind her in obedient silence, aware that trying to argue would just piss her off further. However, he didn’t actually feel guilty about what he’d done, reasoning that she’d known damned well that he didn’t want to go out to socialize. His work was important to him. Lisa refused to talk to him for the rest of the evening, so he spent the night in his workshop to avoid her wrath. Which was convenient, because it let her call Michael’s cell number to tell him she’d be delighted to have lunch with him in a couple of days.

“That man is so frustrating!” Lisa complained during her lunch date with Michael. “He’d rather spend his time working on something or other than being friendly with people. He’d spend days in his workshop if I let him get away with it.”  
Michael nodded, allowing her to vent.  
“It’s not easy being married to a genius, you know. He’s so damn smart -- he’s always thinking, and he knows just about everything. It makes me feel stupid sometimes,” she confessed. “And he’s proud of being smarter than everyone else…maybe he deserves to be, but it’s so annoying. Ugh! I love him, but he is so infuriating at times.”  
“Sounds like this has been bothering you for a while,” Michael observed.  
“Yes, I guess it has. I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you.”  
“Oh, don’t worry about it; everyone needs a chance to rant every once in a while,” he grinned.  
“And with his mental issues…sometimes I wish we had a normal life,” she mused, remembering Roscoe’s meltdown at the mall last Christmas. “It’s exhausting. He’s a good man, but…you know.”  
“I understand, and you’re very brave for putting up with all that. Maybe he doesn’t deserve you. Maybe you deserve more.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like a man who really cares about you,” he said tenderly, and leaned over to kiss her. 

Lisa was startled, initially pulling away, but then realized she wanted it too. They exchanged a lingering kiss across the table, and it felt so good, so naughty. Her heartbeat quickened, and it reminded her of the first kiss she’d ever experienced. It had been quite a few years since she’d kissed a man other than Roscoe.  
“Oh!” she exclaimed, blushing a deep crimson, when they broke apart. “That was…nice.”  
“I know we feel a connection, a mutual attraction,” Michael said seriously. “We can explore it -- if you want to.”  
“I’m married…” she replied softly, her eyes downcast. She hoped he didn’t see how much she wanted him, as her lust embarrassed her.   
“Does it really matter? He’s an idiot to put his work ahead of you. You deserve a man who’ll always put you first, and give you the normal life you want. You shouldn’t have to put up with his ‘issues’. He can’t make you happy…but I can.”  
“He loves me,” Lisa whispered, but Michael could see her resolve was faltering, and this was exactly the encouragement he sought.  
“You need someone to take care of you. Come back to my place and I’ll show you what I mean.”  
She shivered, realizing she’d reached the point of no return.  
“….yes.”

Lisa spent the afternoon making love with Michael, enjoying the newness and his enthusiasm. He was attentive and skilled, and it was so liberating to not have to worry about the kids overhearing. Sex with Roscoe had always been good, but as with all long-term relationships, the novelty had worn off years ago. They both knew what turned the other on, but having a new lover let her explore what aroused him.  
“My God, this has been amazing,” she murmured in his ear as they kissed and cuddled after hours of sex. “I feel like a new woman.”  
“I told you this was what you needed,” he smiled at her. “And you can come get it whenever you want.”  
“Mmmm, yes, maybe tomorrow when the kids are in sch-- oh no, the kids! I forgot to pick them up!”  
She jumped to her feet and looked around frantically for her clothing, noticing that the clock indicated it was after five.  
“Shit! I have to go. Roscoe and the kids will be wondering where I am.”  
“I’m sure they’re fine. Stay and have dinner.”  
“No! They’re expecting me. I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie,” she panted as she hastily pulled on her clothes. She hurried to the car and drove home faster than she should have, feeling terribly guilty for having forgotten her errand.

When Lisa arrived at the house, Roscoe was in the kitchen starting dinner, while Nate quietly drew artwork at the table.  
“Where have you been?” Roscoe asked with confusion and more than a hint of annoyance. “You were supposed to pick up the kids today.”  
“I know…I’m sorry…” she apologized, giving him a peck on the cheek but not looking him in the eye; it didn’t seem appropriate. “I was…out, and lost track of time.”  
“The school called me to retrieve them. I called your cell a few times, but you never answered.”  
“And now you’re making dinner. My hero!” she enthused, attempting to change the subject.  
“They made us wait in the principal’s office!” Nate piped up. “Why didn’t you come, Mommy?”  
Lisa went crimson and giggled, thinking _Oh, Mommy **did** come_ , but quickly sobered up when Roscoe looked at her curiously.  
“I’m sorry, honey, I won’t forget next time,” she promised Nate fondly, ruffling his hair.  
“You can set the table,” Roscoe told her, still looking at her a bit oddly. “Dinner should be ready in an hour.”  
“That’s fine,” she yawned. “I need to shower and rest up after the day I’ve had…”

Lisa learned to be more careful with discretion as she continued to meet with Michael over the following weeks. She made sure not to forget her chores and errands, and Roscoe didn’t seem to realize what was going on. She now encouraged him to be distracted by his work, which was not difficult, and they were both content doing their own thing.  
“What a wonderful afternoon,” she purred to Michael as they sipped champagne in the bath. “I’ve completely fallen in love with you, you know.”  
“I do,” he said with a smirk, massaging her shoulders and kissing her neck. “You should stay here with me permanently. Just the two of us…”  
She suddenly frowned. “You mean leaving Roscoe.”  
“Of course, why not? We love each other, and you’re happier here. You shouldn’t pretend anymore, Lisa. Just tell him and be done with it.”  
“It’s not that easy, Mike. I still love him…I don’t want to hurt him. And what about the kids?”  
“Don’t you think the kids would be happier in their own home? You can bring them here, of course, but this place is kind of small…”  
“Well, we’d have to move,” she declared firmly, “so there’d be room for the kids.”  
“Of course, of course,” he said smoothly. It occurred to him that in a custody battle it was unlikely the unfaithful spouse would be awarded guardianship of the children, but he didn’t want to upset her just now. He hoped the issue of the kids would blow over, because in all honesty he didn’t want a ready-made family. He would prefer the children stayed with their father.  
“Just think about what I’ve said,” he told her tenderly, beginning the kisses on her neck anew. “You know we’ll be happy together. I’ll show you why…”  
He helped her out of the tub and onto the couch, where they spent the rest of the afternoon making love.

“Hello!” Roscoe greeted her cheerfully when she arrived home that evening. The kids were visiting their Uncle Len, and her husband was waiting for her in the living room rather than his workshop, which was odd. She was surprised, especially when he got up and embraced her.  
“Wow,” he said, sniffing her with a grin. “You’re dressed to kill, hotter than hell, and wearing my favourite perfume. Is it my birthday?”  
She flushed and looked away, but he wasn’t dissuaded.  
“C’mon beautiful, let me show you how much I love that outfit.”  
Inwardly, Lisa began to panic. If they became intimate, it would be completely obvious she’d just slept with her lover.  
“No!” she said forcefully, shoving Roscoe away. He looked stunned.   
“I mean…I have a headache, baby, I need to lie down.”  
“Oh…sorry. You could have just said so,” he replied with some disappointment. “I hope you feel better soon, hon --- I’ll get you some Aspirin.”   
“Don’t bother,” she said quietly, and went straight to bed, wracked with guilt.

She was considerably more subdued the next time she visited Michael, not her usual cheery self.  
“I don’t know what to do,” she murmured unhappily over a drink. “I hate lying to him.”  
“Then be honest,” he suggested. “Tell him the truth.”  
“But what _is_ the truth?”  
“That we’re in love. That your marriage is over. You rejected him, Lisa, I think that speaks volumes.”  
“Only because I was afraid of hurting him!”  
“Or because you didn’t want to get caught,” he pointed out calmly.  
“Maybe both…” she whispered, closing her eyes.  
“I think you have to make a choice,” Michael told her firmly. “It’ll tear you apart otherwise. And -- and I’m not sure I’m willing to be just a fling on the side for a woman who won’t commit.”  
She understood the implied threat all too clearly.  
“Oh…I don’t want to lose you…” she said sadly, tears coming to her eyes. “Mike, you’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years. You’re important to me.”  
“So won’t you make _me_ the happiest man alive by coming to live with me?” he asked tenderly, and she just about melted into his arms, looking up lovingly at his smiling face.  
“Yes…”

That evening, Lisa was relieved that Roscoe spent much of the time in his workshop, giving her an opportunity to pack. She was saddened for him, worried about how he’d react, but she’d made up her mind and nothing was going to change it now…until she looked in on the sleeping children, and her resolve nearly broke.  
 _My babies_ , she thought sadly, _I don’t want to leave you…but you’ll be happier with your daddy for now. When Mike and I are settled, maybe then you can live with us._

She sat down to write a letter for Roscoe, which she then hid in the closet with her suitcase. She was going to leave for Michael’s apartment the next morning, planning to spend one last night at the house. By the time Roscoe left his workshop to come to bed, she was sitting nervously in their bedroom, jumpy with anticipation.  
“Are you all right?” he asked curiously. He was not particularly socially adept, but even he could sense something was wrong.  
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said softly, and looked at him really closely for the first time in a long while. He was obviously puzzled and concerned about her, which just about broke her heart. For the second time that evening, she reconsidered her plan to leave.  
“Something’s bothering you, hon. You can tell me what it is.”  
“Nothing’s bothering me, Roscoe. I’ve just had a long day, that’s all…don’t worry about it.”  
She quickly lay down before he could question her further, so he shook his head in frustration and silently got dressed for bed. He soon fell asleep, but Lisa tossed and turned all night.

In the morning, before he awoke, Lisa tip-toed out of the room with her suitcase. The letter had been left on the desk across from the bed, where she hoped he would find it before the children did. Her plan was to leave the house before anyone got up, but to her surprise and dismay, both kids heard her leaving and came down to look.  
“Mommy, where are you going?” Star asked innocently, and their mother hugged them both.  
“Shhhh, don’t wake your daddy. I’m going out for a while, and I want you to be good. Do what he tells you, okay?”  
“Okay,” Nate replied. As far as he was concerned, this was no different from her leaving for ten minutes to go to the grocery store, so he was unbothered. Star, however, was older and realized something was up.  
“When are you coming back?” she asked, worried.  
“I don’t know. It’ll depend on a few things. I love you both, you know that? Now I’ve got to go, my ride’s here. Remember what I said.”  
“I love you, Mommy,” Star said quietly, and took her little brother’s hand as Lisa headed outside. Their mother blew them a kiss as she closed the front door, and Star led him away to the rec room, sitting him down on the couch and turning on the TV for him.  
“She said to be good,” the girl told him gravely. “We have to be good.”

Star did not understand what had just happened, but she knew something was wrong, and sat anxiously with Nate for the next hour. She protected her brother by covering his ears when their father let out an anguished wail upon reading the letter Lisa had left for him, and did her best to distract Nate for as long as Roscoe sobbed. When he’d finally gone quiet, she ventured to the fridge to gather food for herself and her brother, and occasionally brought food upstairs to her father in his bedroom. His grief-stricken and bizarre behaviour terrified her. But despite her fears, she cared for her brother and father to the best of her ability for several days, until her uncle stepped in; what else could she do?


	2. All's Fair In Love And Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even happy families have problems...and things can get ugly.

The only people who knew Len Snart’s telephone number were family members and close associates, so he was always quick to answer the phone when it rang. This time, he was glad to hear the voice of his beloved niece.  
“Uncle Lenny?” Star Dillon asked quietly. “Could…could you come over here, please?”  
Her tone sounded unhappy, so she immediately had his attention.  
“Of course. What is it, kid?”  
“Mommy’s gone, and there’s something wrong with Daddy.”  
“Dammit. Sit tight, Star, I’ll be over right away. It’ll be okay.”  
He hung up the phone and muttered worried profanities under his breath as he gathered up his cold gun and hurried over to the Dillons’ house. He didn’t like what he’d heard, and was already suspecting the worst.

The door was unlocked and he rushed inside, unsure of what he’d find. Had Roscoe gone nuts and murdered Lisa? If so, he’d kill the man, even though it would leave the children without parents.   
The house was a mess, as though no one had been keeping it tidy for days. But Star and Nathaniel came running as soon as they heard him arrive.  
“Uncle Lenny!” both shouted with excited relief, and hugged him when he bent down to greet them. Len had unpleasant memories of he and Lisa being rescued from their monstrous father by a concerned relative, and it bothered him that history was apparently repeating itself.  
“Where’s your mom, kids?”  
“She left a few days ago. She told us to be good,” Nathaniel said solemnly.   
“And your dad?”  
“He’s upstairs,” Star answered, looking worried.  
“Did he hurt you? Or hurt your mom?” Len asked sternly, already planning to beat the shit out of him.  
“No…but he hasn’t left his room since Mommy left. I had to get food for me an’ Nate,” she replied.  
“Stay here,” their uncle instructed them. “I’m gonna go talk to yer dad.”  
The children nodded, and he stalked up the stairs, priming his cold gun. As soon as he reached the upper floor, he smelled strong odours of sweat and urine and heard muttering coming from the master bedroom, so he made ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Slowly, he opened the bedroom door and peered inside.

Roscoe was seated on the bed, rocking violently back and forth and mumbling to himself. His hair and clothes were unkempt, and he clearly hadn’t shaved or bathed in several days.  
“Dillon, what the hell is going on? Where’s my sister?” Len demanded, shocked by his condition.  
“She’s gone, she’s gone,” Roscoe said agitatedly, looking up at him with an unhappy expression. He put his head in his hands and seemed to be weeping. “Oh God, she’s gone.”  
“Gone where?”  
“She’s gone.”  
Len pointed the gun at him. “Did you do something to her?”  
“She’s gone, she left me.” He gestured in the direction of a letter on the floor, which Len picked up and skimmed; he recognized Lisa’s handwriting, and she mentioned something about falling in love with another man.  
Len relaxed slightly, somewhat relieved. “It’s about time she showed some sense. Get your ass up and look after your kids. This place is a fuckin’ mess.”  
“She’s gone, she’s gone,” Roscoe repeated, as though he hadn’t heard him. “Lisa…”  
Len looked at the distraught man and sighed heavily; he had a feeling this situation was going to require a lot of time and effort to remedy.

A few days later, Lisa Dillon heard a knock at the door of her lover’s apartment, and went to answer it. She was shocked to find her brother there, looking at her impatiently.  
“Hey Lisa,” he greeted her, but there was not a lot of warmth in his tone.  
“Lenny!” she exclaimed, startled. “How’d you find me?”  
“I have ways. Can I come in?”  
“Uh, sure.” She suspected he’d just push his way in anyway if she didn’t agree to it. He wandered inside, looking around with mild interest at the posh surroundings. There was plush white carpeting, abstract paintings on the walls, and expensive designer furniture. Not a home for children.

“Nice place your boy-toy’s got here.”  
“What do you want, Lenny?”  
“I came to talk about why you ran out on your kids.”  
“Roscoe’s looking after them,” she said defensively, and Len snorted.  
“He’s a complete wreck, he’s lost it -- I had him committed to the psych ward before he did something really messed up. I went to your place expecting to beat the crap out of him, but I actually feel sorry for the guy. Crazy bastard.”  
“What?” Lisa demanded in horror. “Where are the kids?”  
“Some of the guys are watching them right now. They’re doing okay. They miss their mom and dad, though.”  
“I didn’t mean to hurt them…” she lamented, but her brother didn’t look sympathetic.  
“No, you just ran off to sleep with some rich jerk. You didn’t think about any of them. Those kids need you. And I don’t much like Dillon, but he doesn’t deserve that. If you want to kick his ass to the curb, then get a real divorce, but don’t run out on him for another man.”  
“I love Mike,” she protested indignantly.  
“Yeah, well, those kids love _you_. And so does Dillon, in his own crazy way. You owe it to them to look after them -- as it is, I’m doing your job for you.”  
“You mind your own business, Lenny,” she retorted in anger. “I’ll handle my own affairs.”  
“If that’s the way it’s gonna be, then we have nothing more to talk about,” he said simply, and got up to leave.  
“Suits me. Don’t come back here again,” she snapped at him, and he slammed the door on his way out. One of the most valuable paintings tumbled to the floor.

The following morning, a more humbled Lisa arrived at Len’s doorstep.  
“I’m here to see the kids,” she told him softly, and they came running when they heard her voice.  
“Mommy!” they squealed delightedly, pouncing on her. She hugged them both tightly, and a few tears escaped from her eyes.  
“Mommy’s sorry. She won’t go away again,” she whispered, cuddling them to her as Len looked on approvingly.  
“We missed you, Mommy!” Star gushed joyfully, soaking up all the affection she’d missed from her mother over the past week.  
“And I missed you too, sweetheart,” Lisa said with a loving smile. “How have you guys been?”  
“Daddy’s crazy,” Nathaniel informed her gravely, using the term he’d overheard his uncle say, and Lisa looked unhappy.  
“He’s just not feeling well, Nate. He’ll get better. We’ll go see him this afternoon.”  
She only wished that she truly believed he would recover.

Later that day, Lisa tightly gripped her children’s hands as they walked into the psychiatric hospital, fearing how her spurned husband might react to her presence. The kids were bewildered by the sterile surroundings and unusual people they encountered, but excited to be visiting their father. Once Lisa had checked in and been told where Roscoe’s room was, she hurried them down the halls to see him.

Before opening the door to his room, she peered in through the window to look at him; he was sitting quietly on the bed, now clean and well-groomed and dressed in hospital pyjamas. She slowly opened the door and poked her head inside before the children could see.  
“Roscoe..?” she asked softly, and his face lit up with joy.  
“Lisa!”  
“I brought the kids…” she said, encouraged by his friendly response. “How are you feeling?”  
It was then that Star and Nate pushed their way in and ran to their father’s bedside.  
“Daddy!” they shrieked with excitement, and Star jumped onto his lap before Lisa could prevent her from doing it.  
“Let’s not overwhelm him,” Lisa urged cautiously, worried about his mental state, but he smiled at his daughter and hugged her fondly. He patted the more reserved Nathaniel on the head.  
“I’m fine,” he told them. “It’s good to see you, you’re my first visitors.”  
Lisa kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here until yesterday. Kids, I need to talk to Daddy. Why don’t you go get something from the snack machine outside?”  
She gave them a few dollars, and they rushed out to take advantage of the rare opportunity for free candy. Now alone, she sat down next to her husband on the bed and looked at him with a sorrowful expression.

“I’m so sorry about everything, baby. I made a mistake…a lot of mistakes. I hope we can work together to fix it.”  
“Are you coming back?” he asked wearily, and she nodded.  
“I broke things off with Mike. If you’ll take me back.”  
“Of course, although they’re not going to let me out of here for a while. The doctor told me this morning that they want me to stay at least another week. God, Lisa, this is humiliating.”  
“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” she wept, hugging him. “I’m just glad you didn’t hurt yourself…or anyone else. And you seem pretty good right now.”  
“Thanks to a fairly heavy regimen of anti-psychotics,” he sighed. “A few days ago was not so good. And I could have killed the kids from neglect, you know.”  
“But nothing bad happened,” she whispered in his ear. “They’re okay. It might take a while for them to bounce back from this, but they still love you.”  
“We owe great thanks to your brother,” he said tiredly, easily exhausted from the medication he’d been taking, and she put an arm around him.  
“Yes. Lenny helped a lot,” she mused. His words had convinced her what a terrible mistake she’d made by leaving.

The kids came running back in soon afterwards, thrilled to see their parents together and their father behaving normally. They jumped around the room with their candy, chattering excitedly and basking in their parents’ attention, until a nurse came in and told the family that visiting hours were over.  
“Mr. Dillon needs to rest,” she informed them, a bit concerned about him getting over-stimulated.  
“I could use the sleep,” he yawned as his family reluctantly said their goodbyes. Lisa promised they’d come visit the next day, though she knew from what Len told her that she had a lot of cleaning to do at the house. Well, it was time to start fixing her mistakes. From now on, she vowed, she would do better.


	3. Attempts At Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roscoe and Lisa find that recovery isn't easy.

Today was a joyous day, for Roscoe Dillon was returning home from his stay in the psychiatric ward. His family was delighted, the children especially, but he simply felt relieved. The whole experience had been traumatic and embarrassing for him.  
“I hope ya understand why I sent you there,” his brother-in-law said as he drove him home, and Roscoe nodded. He was only too aware of his recent mental breakdown.  
“I’m not angry,” he replied, even though relations had never been good between the two men. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us recently.”  
“No prob, I’m just glad things worked out,” Len said. “I hated seeing those kids unhappy.”  
 _I could have killed them_ , Roscoe thought to himself, not for the first time. _From neglect, or even out of psychosis. What’s wrong with me?_  
“You okay?” Len asked with uncharacteristic sympathy, and Roscoe nodded again mutely. He almost would have preferred Len’s usual hostility, for he detested being handled with kid gloves and treated as though he was broken. He wondered if people would always deal with him like this from now on.  
“We’re here,” Len announced when they pulled into the driveway, which depressed Roscoe further; obviously, he knew they were home. He was crazy, not an idiot. But he said nothing.

“Daddy!” the children shrieked with excitement, running to him as soon as he got out of the car. At least he could count on them to act normally around him, and he hugged them both.   
“I missed you guys,” he told them, choking up, and had to blink back tears.  
“I painted you a picture, Daddy,” Nate mumbled bashfully, at which Star looked scornful.  
“ _I_ made you a secret box to keep stuff in,” she declared with pride, and their father smiled.  
“They sound great. I know I’ll love them both, so no squabbling.”  
Nate stuck out his tongue at his sister, thrilled that her attempt to one-up him had failed.

“Hello, stranger,” came a feminine voice from the porch, slightly reserved and shy, and Roscoe looked up to see his wife.  
“Lisa…” he greeted her happily, and she came down to meet him. His breakdown had been sparked by her leaving him for another man, and although they’d already reconciled, she was ashamed of her conduct. As a result, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable around him.  
“God, I love you,” he exclaimed, relieved she was still there. He’d had a secret fear that she’d gone back to her lover while he was in the hospital, and that Len had been hiding it from him. He hugged her tightly, which gave her the encouragement to hug him in return.  
“Welcome back,” she whispered in his ear, and he started to choke up again.  
“It’s good to be here. Good to see you,” he replied, stroking her blonde hair affectionately.  
“Let’s get inside. People are starin’,” Len grunted, annoyed by the neighbours’ prying eyes, so Lisa led her husband into the house, with the rest of the family following like an entourage.

It didn’t take long for Roscoe to start zoning out. The new medication he was on tired him easily, and the adults quickly noticed what was happening to him, even if the children were oblivious.   
“Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t have to stay on those pills for long,” Lisa fretted as he dozed off and began to snore softly in his chair.  
“Why wouldn’t he?” her brother asked.  
“Well, the doctor told me he could switch to a different dose or different prescription once he’s fully stable. That shouldn’t be long,” she answered, but felt somewhat worried. “This happens a lot.”  
“Hey, Daddy fell asleep!” Star announced in surprise, having just noticed his snoring, and Lisa shushed her.   
“Yes, he’s tired. Let him rest.”  
“Is he tired because he’s crazy?” Nate asked with childish innocence, and Lisa glared at Len, from whom the kids had heard their father was ‘crazy’. He shrugged in apology.  
“I told you not to use that word,” Lisa said sternly. “He’s not crazy. He just wasn’t feeling well earlier. He’s better now.”  
“He sure as hell _was_ nuts,” Len muttered under his breath, so Lisa smacked him.  
Having silently awakened from his snooze early during the conversation, Roscoe let out a soft sigh at what the others were saying about him; he’d suspected they’d felt as such. But he didn’t let on that he’d heard, and soon drifted off again to a land of disjointed dreams.

Lisa noticed her husband was a lot quieter than he used to be, and it bothered her. She didn’t know if it was from the meds, or if he was upset with her because of her affair. He also seemed very passive and not especially interested in sex, which she patiently accepted at first, but made her increasingly frustrated.  
“Don’t you find me attractive anymore?” she asked desperately one evening, having unsuccessfully tried to seduce him whilst wearing her sexiest lingerie, and he simply stared at her.  
“Of course I do. I’m just not in the mood, that’s all.”  
“Roscoe, we haven’t had sex since you got back. Tell me what’s wrong!”  
“I’m just…not in the mood.”  
“Well, let me know when you will be, because _I am_!”

The scene repeated itself every night for the next week. One time they did attempt lovemaking, but it ended prematurely and was unsatisfying for both. She had a high libido, and they’d always enjoyed a healthy sex life, so she was frustrated and angry and he sensed it.  
“I’m sorry…” he offered helplessly, “maybe when my meds are changed…”  
“I don’t know if I want to wait that long,” she said brusquely, and immediately regretted it, especially when she saw the hurt look on his face. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t really mean that. I love you, but this is just so upsetting. But we’ll get through this…”  
Roscoe turned over in bed, trying to hide his unhappy expression. But even as he moped, he was thinking hard about a solution for their problem, pondering it long after Lisa had fallen asleep.

The next evening, after the children had gone to sleep, he sat her down on their bed.  
“I believe I’ve come up with an idea to solve our, um, predicament,” he told her, and she looked at him expectantly. “Lisa, I don’t want to lose you, and I nearly did. I’m afraid it’ll happen again.”  
She started to protest, but he held up a hand. “Let me finish, hon. I know our sex life isn’t enough for you right now, and I hope things will improve. But if it doesn’t…well, I’m offering you the chance to get some elsewhere.”  
Her jaw dropped, and he smiled weakly. “You’re a gorgeous woman who probably won’t have any difficulty finding lovers. All I ask are a few conditions: that you never neglect the kids, that you don’t bring your boyfriends to the house, and that you keep yourself protected from pregnancy and disease. Does that sound fair?”  
Stunned, Lisa put her hands on his face. “It’s…more than fair. Are you sure, baby? I don’t want to hurt you.”  
He smiled ruefully at her. “I already got over the hurt. As long as you don’t leave me, I’ll be all right. I love you, and want you to be happy.”  
“I can’t believe you’d do that for me,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder and encircling her arms around his torso. “Why was I stupid enough to leave you?”  
“Because you probably weren’t getting the attention you needed,” he admitted. “It was my fault too. I don’t want it to happen again.”  
“It won’t, it won’t,” she assured him fondly, cuddling against him. “I’ve got the man I love right here.”  
“And maybe you’ll tell me about your escapades sometimes,” he said with a grin, and she pretend-slapped him.  
“You _are_ a dirty boy!” she exclaimed delightedly, kissing him roughly, and it wasn’t long before they were undressing each other and having their first good sex since well before she’d left him. It was ironic, she thought the next morning, that it only happened after he’d offered to let her find lovers elsewhere. It was not until much later that she realized it was part of his plan all along.

A week later, Len was shopping downtown in the early afternoon when he noticed his sister sitting at a café patio. He was shocked to see her with a strange man, and as he watched, the man reached forward to caress her hand.  
 _Didn’t she learn anything from the last time?_ he thought to himself, furious. _I’m not going to clean up her messes again._  
He marched over to the couple’s table and stood next to her, visibly angry.  
“Lisa, we need to talk,” he muttered, and the man looked terrified, probably fearing this was her husband. She realized what was bothering him.  
“This is my brother,” she assured him hastily, and got up to follow Len a few feet away.

“Lenny, what the hell? I’m in the middle of something here.”  
“Another affair, Lisa? After Dillon went nuts the last time? Why do you put your kids through this?”  
“Roscoe knows. He said he didn’t mind.”  
“…he _knows_?” Len asked in confusion. “Jesus, he really is still nuts.”  
“It’s none of your business, Lenny, but you can ask him yourself if you don’t believe me. I’m just out with Frank while the kids are in school. I’ll be going to pick them up at three, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my coffee while there’s still time.”  
“O…kay…” Len said slowly, not entirely certain he believed her, but unsure of what else to do. “Have fun…”  
“Oh, I already did,” she replied proudly, winking at him as she walked back, and he shuddered. He figured it was time to pay a visit to his brother-in-law.

The house was quiet when Len entered with his copy of the key, searching around carefully in case Roscoe had had another nervous breakdown or perhaps killed himself. He found him in his workshop, diligently tinkering with a piece of electronics.  
“Hey Dillon,” Len said cautiously, concerned about setting him off, but relieved that Roscoe seemed more like his old self than he had in a while. At least he was working again.  
“Hello. What brings you here?”   
“I was just wonderin’ how you’re doing, now that you’ve been back from the nuthouse for a while. Feeling okay?”  
“Absolutely,” Roscoe replied, already wary. It wasn’t like Len to care about him, unless he was being terribly patronizing. “Why do you ask?”  
“Well, uh, I saw Lisa…”  
“…and she was with another man, correct?”  
“So you do know,” Len said with surprise. “What’s up with that?”  
“I don’t believe it’s any of your business,” Roscoe answered crisply, and turned back to his work.  
“Hey man, I’m just worried about you…I don’t want you to flip out again. I care about my sister and those kids. And, uh, I guess I care about what happens to you. Sort of. Since it affects them.”

Roscoe let out a heavy sigh and turned around again. “I gave her permission to do it. I know why she left me; it’s because she was bored, and looking for excitement. And look, I’ll be honest: my medication has significantly lowered my libido. It’s only a matter of time before she gets bored and frustrated again, and the cycle will begin anew. I don’t think I could survive her leaving me again, Len. I’d rather she gets what she needs and comes back to me at the end of the day.”  
“Huh,” was all Len said, but it made sense to him. However, he didn’t think it was a situation he could personally accept; he would feel too jealous. And he was still doubtful about the state of his brother-in-law’s mental health.  
“Well, if that’s what you want, more power to ya, I guess. I hope it works out, for all your sakes.”  
Were the woman in question not his own sister, he would have advised Roscoe to assert more control over her and not let her get away with such behaviour, but he was always going to be on Lisa’s side, so he said nothing. Instead he filed away the information for future mockery of the cuckolded husband, and left the house to have a good laugh about it.

A few hours later, Lisa returned alone to the house, and sashayed into the workshop to find her husband.  
“There’s my handsome man,” she cooed fondly, and he turned around to smile at her.  
“Did you have a good afternoon? Where are the kids?”  
“I dropped them off at Mark’s to play until dinnertime, so we have a few hours to ourselves. As for my afternoon, it was _wonderful_.”  
Draping herself over him, she whispered a few salacious details in his ear, and his eyes widened.  
“Wow, you’re quite the hot little slut, aren’t you?”  
“I’m _your_ hot little slut,” she purred. “Wanna re-create what we did?”  
“Oh, definitely. Give me a minute to find some rope, babe. In the meantime, you get those clothes off!”  
“Aye-aye, captain,” she saluted with a grin as he made a beeline for the supply closet, and she began unbuttoning her blouse. To finally be connecting with him again and reawakening his desire (not to mention getting laid on the side) made her the happiest she’d been in months. She was naked and posing sexily for him by the time he returned, and he gleefully pounced on her.

********

“You seem happier now, Mr. Dillon,” the psychiatrist observed, and he smiled.  
“I am. Lisa and I are getting along better now, and we’ve started having sex again.”  
“That’s good! It was obvious you were depressed and anxious about it earlier, so I was becoming concerned. What made things improve?”  
“Well…” Roscoe began reluctantly, trailing off, and the doctor looked at him encouragingly. “She was getting impatient about it, and I gave her permission to sleep with other men. That, ah, defused the tension and…it kind of turned me on.”  
“Your wife had an affair and now you want her to have more?” the psychiatrist asked, blinking in surprise, and Roscoe was smarting with embarrassment. He wished he’d lied.  
“…not really. It was a sacrifice to keep her from leaving me again, because I was afraid we were heading in that direction.”  
“And you said it aroused you.”  
“…yes. Somewhat. Do we really have to talk about this? I’m not comfortable with it.”  
“Considering you had your last breakdown after her affair and then had difficulty re-establishing intimacy, I think it’s important. If her first affair upset you so much, why does it arouse you now?”  
“I don’t know, all right? I was distraught because she abandoned me. If she’d simply been sleeping with him -- and of course, she _was_ before she left -- it wouldn’t have bothered me so much. I just couldn’t take her walking out on me. As for why it turns me on, I suppose I’m just a pervert.”  
“I doubt it’s as simple as perversion,” the psychiatrist replied.  
“It’s not like I’m jonesing for her to screw other men. It’s just something that makes our relationship better, and I’m relieved she won’t leave again.”

“But do you realize you’re playing with fire? What if she becomes so attached to one of these lovers that she does leave again?”  
Roscoe closed his eyes. “I know. It’s a calculated risk. And if she does, I’ll kill myself.”  
“I cannot help but wonder if you’re doing this deliberately, even if you don’t realize it.”  
“No! It’s to keep her happy…all I want is for her to be happy. If I have to swallow my pride for that, so be it. I just want her to love me,” he said, tears coming to his eyes. The psychiatrist handed him a box of tissues, which opened the floodgates, and he had a long cathartic cry.  
“Oh hell,” he sniffled after the sobbing had subsided, “who am I kidding, I don’t have much pride left. I had a breakdown in front of my kids and brother-in-law, spent time in the psychiatric ward, and the man laughs at me behind my back for being insane and letting my wife cheat on me. I doubt pride matters anymore.”

“But you’re still working to solve your problems, Mr. Dillon. I’m not certain you’ve chosen the right method, but you aren’t sitting around helplessly waiting for things to happen. That’s a good step. And it’s gotten some positive results that have made you happier, so you do have things to be proud of.”  
A slight glimmer of hopefulness returned to Roscoe’s face. “I suppose that’s true.”  
“I can’t say if your plans will be successful, but I’m pleased with your progress. I think if things continue to go well by the time you see me next week, we can lower your dosage and see how that works out. What do you think about that?”  
“Seems good,” Roscoe replied, sounding almost shy. He was encouraged by the suggestion that he was getting better.  
“Then I’ll see you next week, and good luck,” the psychiatrist told him, and they shook hands. For the first time in a long while, he left the doctor’s office with a smile and some optimism. He hoped Lisa would be waiting for him at home.


End file.
